our footsteps are quiet in the dark
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: Ginny, and what comes after the diary (love, eventually). A drabble collection.
1. what comes next (part i)

Em, I blame you for this.

 _Word count:_ 333

 **what comes next**

Tom is dead. Tom possessed her and tried to kill her. Tom was her friend and confident and he betrayed her, and Ginny would hate him if it didn't hurt so much.

She's fine, Mrs. Pomphrey herself told her so. Whatever twisted dark magic Tom had used on her, it didn't leave any lingering effects.

So why does she feel so unbalanced, so dirty? Why does she still feel like there are ants beneath her skin, a darkness burned right into her mind that she can't get out.

 _(why can't she sleep?!)_

Mrs. Pomphrey frowns when Ginny tells her this, not in worry but in sympathy, and she casts her diagnosis spells again. When they show nothing but slight exhaustion, Ginny wishes she could feel relief instead of disappointment. At least if there had been something, she'd have had something to fight, something more concrete than the dark corners of her own mind.

"It'll pass," the nurse tells her kindly, and Ginny forces a smile on her lips in answer. "I can prescribe you some Dreamless Sleep, though, if you need it, but you'd have to spend the night here."

For a moment, Ginny yearns so badly she almost says yes—to have one entire night of sleep, of restful sleep? She's not sure she remembers what that's like.

But it'd mean giving up the warm comfort of the Gryffindor towers, of her brothers' presence, and trade it for the cold emptiness of the Healing Wing. Even for a full night of sleep, this isn't a trade she'd make, so instead of saying yes, she bites her lips down hard, and tastes blood. This, at least, still feels real.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Alright, but if you ever change your mind…"

"I won't," Ginny replies, and for the first time in months, she feels like herself again, resolve burning hot in her veins. It doesn't last, but it's enough. For a start—for a glimpse at an _after_ —it's enough.


	2. what comes next (part ii)

_Word count:_ 399

 **what comes next (part ii)**

When Harry, Ron and Ginny, followed by an oddly amnesiac Professor Lockhart, had stumbled into Dumbledore's office, Ginny had been drowned in hugs from her family, their warmth chasing the last remnants of the cold from the Chamber that had lingered in her soul.

Her parents had wanted to take her home with them—once Mrs. Pomphrey checked her over for any injuries or lasting harm, of course—but for some reason, Ginny had been unable to leave.

"They'll know," she had said. "If I leave now, they'll know it was me." She hadn't voiced what she had thought would happen to her if that became true, but from the silence that had suddenly fallen over the room, she hadn't needed to.

"They will," Professor Dumbledore had replied, eyes devoid of their usual sparkles.

One look to her parents' drawn faces had been all Ginny had needed to nod with a determination she hadn't been feeling, and declare that she'd stay until the year ended.

It isn't a decision she regrets, but she wishes she hadn't had to make it anyway. She's essentially missed a year now, and her housemates don't know her, have made friends among themselves and, through no fault of theirs, have excluded her. It makes her miss Tom; or rather, perhaps, the way he had always had a kind word for her, had always listened.

Merlin, she can't believe she had been so stupid.

She studies, instead. Tries to catch up on the lessons she'd only been half-present for, mind stretched thin trying to keep the fog that she now knows was Tom burrowing himself into her soul at bay. There are no exams this year, thankfully, because if there were Ginny isn't sure she'd pass them.

Everywhere she goes, she sees reminders of what she's done, of the fear she's caused all year. Of course, she knows Tom is to blame, but she had still been the one to give him the means to commit every little crime he had done.

Anger simmers beneath her skin, building up in her veins. She feels like she could explode from it, but she's terrified to even try to express it, because what if this is it? What if this is where she becomes like him, where she loses herself again?

She doesn't think she could live through this a second time.


	3. what comes next (part iii)

_Word count:_ 316

 **what comes next (part iii)**

Strangely enough, even though Ginny has no memory of what she did when she was possessed, her body still does. When she lets her mind wander, her feet will take her down unfamiliar paths with practiced ease. Her fingers will grip her wand with a grip that isn't quite hers, and she'll find spells she's never cast on the tip of her tongue.

It is, perhaps, the most frightening thing about this whole endeavor—to know that Tom walked in her skin long enough for it to get used to him.

It is, however, also what leads her to knowing many of Hogwarts' abandoned classrooms. She doesn't want to even think as to what Tom might have done there, but she will take this curse and turn it into a gift, because there, in these empty, lonely places, her rage cannot hurt anyone but her.

 _(she's the only one who'd deserve it, anyway)_

They don't learn defensive spells in first year, and yet when Ginny slashes her wand forward, anger boiling over, the incantation for _Diffindo_ slips through her lips like they're made for it.

Her spells cuts through two chairs and a table, and Ginny collapses, trembling.

 _What if_ , she thinks _, what if this had been a person?_ In her mind's eye, she sees blood and torn flesh. She's not surprised when she loses her lunch.

It had been so easy to cast that spell, so natural—almost like a reflex. It chills her, to think of what other deadly reflexes might be at her fingertips without her knowing. It makes her want to scream, to cry, to hide away and never come out again.

Alas, that isn't an option. Instead, she gets up and Vanishes her mess, feeling viciously glad that this spell, at least, she can remember learning, before leaving, limbs still shaking.

She's back the next day.


	4. what comes next (part iv)

_Word count:_ 248

 **what comes next (part iv)**

There is less than a week left until the summer holidays, and the perspective of being back home with no possibility to cast any spell is both relieving and terrifying.

The fact that she won't be able to hurt anyone even if she wanted to (and oh, by Merlin, how she doesn't) is a plus, but it seems overshadowed by the fact that she won't be able to keep doing what she's doing during the summer.

Being home, and with no wand, means she won't be able to slash and destroy inanimate objects when her emotions become too much for her. It means stopping, means finding another way to deal with the horrors that won't stop haunting her nights, and she doesn't think she can do that yet. Possibly ever.

But destroying stuff—old desks covered in dust, chairs already on the verge of collapse… That makes her feel alive again, makes her feel almost alright. She hates how easy and right it feels, but she can't stop. With every curse she casts, she feels just that tiny bit more in control of herself, like maybe if she buries this room in enough rubble she'll start feeling less broken inside.

Like maybe if the world outside reflects the devastation inside of her she'll figure out how to start healing.

She scares herself sometimes, though. Maybe leaving Hogwarts won't be so bad for her, after all. It might even, hopefully, do her some good.


	5. speak up

_Word count:_ 573

 **speak up (if you don't wanna drown)**

The footsteps are so quiet she nearly doesn't hear them, and the breathing that comes with them isn't really any louder. In the end, what betrays the presence of Ginny's follower is the gasping noise that comes when Ginny finally blasts an old table into smithereens.

When she whirls around, the tip of her wand glows an ominous red for a few tense seconds before Ginny manages to push it down.

"Ginny?"

"Lavender?"

Ginny's not sure who's more surprised by this encounter, but the earlier stiffness melts away as quickly as snow in the summer. Even if Ginny doesn't really know the older Gryffindor, she thinks she can trust her.

Or maybe it's not about trusting _her_ —maybe it's more that Ginny can trust that Lavender can't hurt her. The thought is oddly disquieting.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, tongue darting out to lick her dry lips.

Lavender shifts on her feet awkwardly. "I was looking for you, actually," she shrugs.

"Lucky coincidence?"

For some reason, that makes Lavender smile, though she sobers up quickly. "Not really, no. Your… Ah, your brothers sent me. They were worried." It's obvious enough, from the tenseness in her eyes, that they're not the only one. The sentiment pulls at Ginny's lips.

"They wanted to come," Lavender continues, "but Parvati told them you might need someone a little less…"

"Overbearing?" Ginny suggests, amused despite herself.

"They mean well," Lavender explains, though she still grimaces in that 'boys, right?' way. "But, yes, I guess. I hope we didn't overstep. I mean, we're not really friends, or anything, and usually we'd have chosen Hermione, but…"

Ginny flinches. No, Hermione isn't an option, frozen as she is in the Hospital Wing. It hurts, to remember that she put one of her brother's best friend, one of her own friends (because Hermione had only ever been kind to Ginny) there, that she was used in a plot to try to kill her.

"Yeah," Ginny replies, throat tight, "it's fine, really. You didn't, err, overstep or anything." She blinks furiously, trying to chase the burning in her eyes away, and the silence grows somewhat uncomfortable before Ginny forces a smile on her face.

"As you can see, though, I'm fine. So you can tell that to my brothers, and also add that they can stop worrying."

Lavender snorts. "Yeah, somehow I don't think that'll work." She bites her lip, suddenly more hesitant. "Also, and don't take this the wrong way, but… Do you really think you're giving them no reason to worry? At all?"

Ginny's first instinct is to bristle, but then she looks around herself and sees the ruins she's made of this room. It feels as though she's seeing them for the first time, like suddenly she can finally see how they'd look to someone else.

"I…" She trails off, lost for words. Lavender's eyes soften.

"Hey, it's okay. And sometimes… Sometimes it's okay not to be okay too, alright?"

"That doesn't make any sense," Ginny chuckles half-heartedly, breath catching in her throat.

"It doesn't have to," Lavender shrugs, smiling. "Now come on, we should get out of here before Filch finds us. Or worse, one of your brothers." She fakes a shiver, and Ginny almost laughs again.

"Come on," she repeats, eyes still impossibly kind and soft, and something inside Ginny's chest bends.

When Lavender leaves the room, Ginny follows.


	6. chocolate to heal your wounds

_Word count:_ 957

 **chocolate to heal your wounds**

To Ginny's surprise, Lavender doesn't lead her toward the Tower. The instant she realizes this, Ginny freezes, panic spreading its icy vines through her chest.

"Where are we going?"

A few steps ahead of her, Lavender stops and turns around. She looks so surprised to find that Ginny has stopped following her that Ginny almost feels bad for doing it.

"The kitchens," she simply replies.

Ginny blinks, taken aback. The ice in her chest starts to melt. "You know where the kitchens are?"

Lavender nods. "Yes. Parvati found them two months ago, I think? Maybe three? I have no idea how she managed that, and she still refuses to tell me, no matter what I do." She pouts, but takes another, longer look at Ginny in consideration. "Well, maybe you'll have better luck than me."

Despite herself, Ginny finds herself walking again, curious. "Why?" she asks. She's smiling too, she realizes, and it feels a little odd.

How long has it been, she wonders, since she last felt like smiling? Too long. _Too long._

Oblivious, or perhaps just choosing not to acknowledge Ginny's small revelation, Lavender rolls her eyes. "Parvati likes being difficult sometimes, and she's lording this over me because I wouldn't let her borrow my mother's nail polish last time she came to visit."

"Sounds petty," Ginny replies before she can help herself. To her surprise, Lavender merely laughs, the sound bright and merry.

"We can be petty," Lavender admits, shrugging. "But as long as she shares her actual knowledge of where the kitchens are, which is the important part anyway, I'll let her think what she wants."

It steals her breath a little, to hear Lavender speak of hers and Parvati's relationship so casually. Their friendship sounds like everything she had hoped she'd find coming to Hogwarts, and everything Tom and her own foolish, trusting heart deprived her of.

They stop in front of a painting of a bowl of fruits, in a part of the school that, Ginny is delighted to find, seems entirely unfamiliar.

"We're here," Lavender says grandly, and before Ginny has the time to ask the "What now?" that's on the tip of her tongue, the girl starts tickling the pear. It contorts away from her fingers, a quiet giggling sound seemingly echoing through the air, until a door replaces the painting.

"Come in," Lavender says, already ducking through. Ginny follows her, heart beating painfully quickly in her chest.

Her next words die on her lips as she takes in the sight on the other side of the door. It looks like she imagines a beehive would, only instead of bees it's House-Elves that are buzzing around, cleaning and cooking and arranging things too quickly for Ginny's eyes to see it all.

"It's something, isn't it?" Lavender says smugly. Ginny can only nod, speechless, and Lavender's smile gets wider as she grabs Ginny's hand to tug her to the far-off corner of the room, where a table, and Parvati, awaits them.

The House-Elves swarm them as soon as they sit down (Lavender beside Parvati, and Ginny right across from them), their eyes comically big and bright as they eagerly ask them if they want anything to eat or drink.

They're strange little creatures, but their kindness and enthusiasm warm a part of Ginny's chest she hadn't realized had gone cold, and once again she finds herself smiling.

"I don't know what to get," she finally admits sheepishly, snapping out of her daze a little. If anything, that only seems to make the two older girls happier.

"I know what we should get," Lavender says brightly, clasping her hands together in front of her and leaning forward. Her eyes twinkle as she says her next words, tone hushed as though she was sharing a great secret. Beside her, Parvati rolls her eyes fondly and mouths Lavender's next words right along with her, "Hot chocolate! Can you do that?" she adds, turning to the House-Elves.

They start nodding quickly and enthusiastically. "Yes, Missy, we knows how to! How would Missy and her friends like their chocolate?"

Parvati takes over, smiling kindly. "Surprise us."

Ginny nods along. If these are the ones responsible for the food here, she's rather sure she could eat or drink anything they make. "What she said," she adds.

Three cups filled to the brim with hot chocolate are slid in front of them before anyone can say anything else, and the girls barely get the time to thank the Elves before they scatter back to their work.

The drink is delicious, and they take their first sips in silence. It reminds Ginny of home and simpler days, and she finds herself swallowing back tears, her throat too tight for words.

"Thanks for this," she finally manages to say after clearing her throat.

She doesn't mean the drink—she feels more settled than she has in days, almost at peace even. Lavender and Parvati are there, a warm presence beside her, but they don't push the way her siblings have been. It shouldn't make such a difference, but it does, and finally Ginny feels like she can breathe.

Parvati and Lavender both reached out to rest a hand on Ginny's, and it should have felt awkward but it didn't. Not even a little bit.

"It's our pleasure, really," Parvati replies.

"Anytime," Lavender adds, winking.

They end up staying there for hours, and by the time they finally do leave, the world outside the kitchens doesn't seem so overwhelming anymore. It's still scary, and Ginny isn't sure how to handle everything, but for once she feels like she could perhaps handle the Gryffindor's common rooms without wanting to scream.

It is a really nice feeling.


	7. somethingeverything

_Word count:_ 189

 **something/everything**

She screams herself awake some nights, Tom's embrace like smoke against her soul. Sometimes, she thinks she can taste ink in her mouth, and it makes her sick. She thinks about emptying all of her inkwells in the bathroom, about watching the black ink dissolve under the water like blood would—maybe then, she'd finally be rid of Tom's remains.

She doesn't, in the end. They can't really afford to replace it, and besides, she knows in her heart and mind that it wouldn't really work. Or at least, not for long.

And perhaps that's the worst part, how nothing she tries actually makes her feel truly better.

And yet, somehow, she does get better. There are no exams to take this year—the only good thing to come out of this whole debacle, she thinks—but Ginny likes to think that she'd have passed them anyway. She resurfaces slowly, piecing back together her life and her soul.

She doesn't think all the pieces fit quite like they used to—no, she knows that they don't—but it's something.

And right now, _something_ feels a lot like _everything_.


End file.
